


Through Her Eyes

by ReinaQueenofDemons



Series: I am the Other alternative verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5x04, AU, F/M, Incest, M/M, Post Apocalyptic Universe, References to Suicide, Torture, Winsister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 07:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaQueenofDemons/pseuds/ReinaQueenofDemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the angels gone and Dean dead Lucifer sets his sight on the one person who stands between him and total power: Sam's twin sister, Jamie. Alone and cut off from Heaven, Jamie must find the strength and resolve to carry on in the face of total annihilation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Through her eyes

 

“Saving people. Hunting things. The family business.” Except this family business had destroyed each and every one of the people they loved. Hell, it destroyed them too. She stared across the room at her brother, the harden warrior bent on revenge, plotting to kill the one thing that once meant more to him then his own life. She knew if he survived this he’d never be the same, but at least what was left of the world could go on, could live. If he didn’t survive she couldn’t even begin to think of the consequences. A world without him was a world with no hope. She couldn’t lead in his place; she wouldn’t be able to. She wasn’t strong enough anymore.

She glanced down, tears already coming as she put a shaky hand on her stomach. The life that had once inhabited her womb had been gone for years, but she could not shake its loss. Of all the lives she had witness taken; it was the lost of her pure and innocent unborn child that she could not overcome. The jagged scar across her temple, well hidden under her strawberry blonde hair, attested to that. She looked towards her brother again, still bent over the map on the table in front of him. Her attempt to take her own life had taken most of her abilities, but now and then she could see as she had done before Hell spilled onto the planet. And she tried to see now, wondering as she often did if her brother mourned with her, afterall it had been his child too.

Two years earlier…

Jamie walked across the compound towards the main cabin that she shared with Dean. It was the largest of the many log structures that littered the landscape, though not by much. It was barely bigger than the motel rooms they had all too often occupied on the road.

The road. She closed her eyes and tried to will the memories away. The brush of her black leather jacket against Dean’s worn brown one. The feel of her silver handled gun in her pale hands. Sam’s low voice echoing with the signal.  The rush of the kill. The sight of the body, painted with its own blood. The celebration afterward, even when they were bruised, and tired, and just wanted to get drunk and pass out.  

It was nearly midnight and she paused, looking up towards the guard tower to make sure the night shift turnover happened without incident. As soon as she saw Yeager take his post she started walking again. “Jamie!”

A figure came towards her out of the shadows, and she fingered the gun strapped to her thigh, though she recognized the voice. Chuck stepped into the light, holding a clipboard aloft. “What is it, Chuck?” She asked.

“Just thought you’d want to know that we had three more refuges show up. Family, mom and two kids.” Chuck handed her the clipboard and she scanned it over.

“They get everything, food, blankets?” She looked up at him. He nodded and she handed him back the clipboard. “Good.”

“Oh, and the duty log is there too, if you wanna look that over. Oh and Dean’s scheduled mission for tomorrow.” Jamie sighs, taking the clipboard back and flipping through the rest of the pages.

“It all looks fine, Chuck.” She looked at him. “Why, is there something bothering you?”

Chuck shook his head. “Just a nagging feeling. But what do I know; I’m not a prophet anymore.” He smiled as she handed him back the clipboard. “Night Jamie.”

“Night Chuck.” She watched him walk away and then frowned. He was no longer a prophet, and neither was she. With Michael and the angels gone they no longer received visions from Heaven. But of course with Jamie it was not that simple. She was a psychic in her own right, with powers not tied to Heaven. She could still see the future, and that had been Chuck’s implication. She sighed and moved her hair away from her face, finally walking up the steps to her cabin.

She paused in front of the door, hearing the sound of glass shattering and a woman crying. She waved two fingers towards the door, causing it blow open and stepped inside. “Dean?” A young brunette, half naked and wrapped in her jacket ran past her, sobbing. She slammed the door shut roughly as she hurried out. A large black pan came flying past and Jamie held her hand out, deflecting it with her telekinetic power so that it hit the wall and not her head. “What the hell?”

“And stay out!” Her brother gulped down another shot and slammed the glass down so roughly it shattered on the table, already littered with broken glass. Jamie raised an eyebrow and then walked over to her brother.

“What the hell are you doing?” She demanded.

“Leave me alone, Jamie.” Dean muttered. 

“You’re drunk!” She had to step back from the strong scent of alcohol radiating off her brother. “Holy shit.” Her brother drank a lot. Had for a long time. In their line of work it was hard not to, hell she herself drank more then was probably acceptable, but when Lucifer was released and she and Dean became the leaders of humanity’s only chance at survival Dean drank just a little less. He certainly didn’t drink himself into an angry stupor. He was not a mean drunk; she had only seen Dean this pissed off and violent when he was sober.

“Get out, Jamie!” He yelled at her, continuing to slam the alcohol down his throat.

“No! What the fuck are you thinking?” She took a couple more steps forward and reached for the alcohol bottle. Dean snatched it away from her, holding it out of her reach. “Give me that!”

“No! Get out, leave me the hell alone!”

“Dean!” She reached for the bottle again and this time her brother lashed out. He shoved her back into the table with enough force that she crashed to the ground. She sat there for a moment, stunned, and then looked up at him. “Dean.” She whispered. Her brother looked away, gulping down more of the bottle until it was empty. He threw it to the floor and more glass went flying. Jamie got to her feet and stared at her brother. “Did something happen? Did she do something to upset you?” She gestured to the door, indicating the girl that had run out.

“No.” Dean finally whispered, leaning over the sink.

“Then what is it, Dean?” She frowned. “It’s not the anniversary of Dad’s death, or Bobby’s, and it’s not Sam’s birthday, so what is it, Dean?”

Her brother turns sharply towards her at the mention of her twin’s name. “You wouldn’t understand.” He scoffs and shoves past her to get another bottle of booze. Jamie shakes her head in disgust. 

“I used to be able to.” She says softly. He stops drinking and looks at her. “You used to tell me everything.” He stares at her and then shakes his head and looks away, taking another long swig of the bottle. Jamie sneers and raises her hand, curling it into a fist. The bottle shatters in Dean’s hand, spraying him with glass and alcohol.

“What the fuck?” Dean rushes at her and grabs unto her, throwing her against the wall. “You damn bitch.” He grabs her arms and pins them above her head.

“Get off me, Dean!” He knocks her head against the wall, and her sight goes blurry. She turns her head and sends a powerful telekinetic blast at him, causing him to fly across the floor. She gasps, dropping to the floor and rubs her eyes. After a moment Jamie gets up and walks over to Dean who groans as he picks himself up. “The fuck?” She curses at him.

He stares down at her and she stares up at him. He grabs her suddenly around the throat and shoves her against the wall again, leaning in and kisses her passionately. She yelled out and pushes him back. He gasps and looks down before slamming her against the wall by the throat. With his free hand he grabs unto her shirt and tears it open. “You have no right!”

“Dean!” She grabs the hand around her throat.

“Shut up!” He smacks her across the face. “I am in charge here! Me! You follow my orders like the rest of those pathetic cocksuckers out there.”

“You’re right Dean. You are in charge. You’re right.” She says, trying to defuse the situation before it goes any further. It doesn’t work. She stares into the green orbs that are her older brother’s eyes and doesn’t see the Dean she knows.

He smacks her a second time, causing her head to spin and her vision to blur. “I said shut up!” He takes a step back, tightening his grip on her throat. “You stupid son of bitch. If you had just listened to me none of this would have happened!”

She winces at the revelation. He’s not talking to her. He’s talking to Sam. She swallows with difficultly. “You’re right.” She says for a third time. “You’re right, big brother, I should have listened to you. It’s my fault.”

“It’s all your fucking fault!” He knocks her against the wall. “All of it! Mom, Dad, everything that is fucking wrong with my life is your fault!”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

Dean stares at her and then lets her go, sinking down to his knees. He closes his eyes and starts to sob. She sinks to the floor and coughs, sobbing softly with him. After a few moments she crawls over to him and looks up at him. He looks at her. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much.” He leans in and kisses her. “Please, please don’t push me away. Please. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He reaches for her ripped shirt and peels it off. “Please.” He continues to kiss her. She bursts into tears, not sure what else to do. “No, no, Sam, please don’t cry, please. I’m sorry. Stop crying, please.” He continues to undress her. “I’m going to make it all better. I promise. Your big brother is here now, and I’m not going to send you away ever again.”

She feels his cold, callous hands on her breasts. His fingers ghosting over her nipples and she shivers at his touch. He nuzzles the sensitive spot under her collarbone, trying to entice a response from her. Gently he kisses away the tears, his soft lips warm on her skin. “I’m going to hell.” She sobs. It’s a stupid response in the face of their world, it IS hell just beyond their doorstep. There is no such thing as sin and vice anymore, not when the fires of perdition have spread into every corner of the Earth.

He shushes her softly, whispering denials into her ear. She shudders at his hot breath against her flesh, against the feel of his bare chest rubbing against her torso. He grabs her hand and guides it down his body, resting it gingerly over the bulge in his boxers. She squeezes her eyes shut and gasps out with a sob as he holds her wrist down, forcing her fingers to curl around his clothed erection. As he reaches out to touch her more intimately she bursts into fresh tears even as she tries to resolve herself to this fate. She deserves this. This is his right. Dean has marked every woman in the camp. And even now, she is his. By her very title, the voice crying out the desert, she is his. Michael bound her to the righteous man, to his vessel, and called her to serve him. It doesn’t matter that Michael is gone, that her power of prophesy is no more, that Dean thinks she’s Sam.            

She has no memory of what happens next, after Dean sheds his boxers and pulls her up so that he can press her back against the wall. After he lifts her hips unto his and grinds their pelvises together. For all her sight and all her power that one moment she buries into the depths of her brain that never sees light. Instead, she wonders if Dean is imaging himself and Sam in one of the grubby, barely clean beds in a run-down motel room after a hunt. It’s pre-Castiel, of course. Maybe there’s blood on the towels on the floor, and a sewing kit on the table, and plenty of alcohol bottles littered everywhere. Sam would comforting Dean, telling him that the most important thing is that they’re both alive, stroking his back and shoulder as Dean lies between his legs. The fantasy makes it easier. It’s easier for her if she just imagines that its Sam’s body Dean is taking. Sam’s thigh he’s caressing. Sam’s lips he’s kissing. And it’s Sam who cries out Dean’s name like a porn star in the throes of orgasm.      

When it’s over she drags from the room and helps him into bed. She tucks him in and throws their clothes into the laundry basket. Then she steps across the hall into her own room and changes into clean jeans and a t-shirt. The utility belt is on the bed, and she snatches it up, buckling it around her waist, down her hip, and around her thigh. She can’t pull the belt tight enough, she wants her breath to catch with every exhalation, but leanness of her stomach won’t allow it, even though she carries the majority of her weight at her hips. 

 Her brush lies vacant on the dresser and she snatches it up, unwinding her orange-blonde locks from the braid that has become a staple of her appearance. It’s almost odd to see her hair fall loose in soft but forced waves down her shoulders. Picking up her olive green army shirt from where she discarded it she sees a single drop of blood on the hem. She rubs her fingers over it. Other then this stain it’s identical to his in every way. The general’s bars on one sleeve. The “Winchester” patch over the front pocket. The pentagram drawn in sharpy on the opposite sleeve. On hers that pentagram falls directly over her anti-possession tattoo. She takes a breath and slips it on before hurrying out of the cabin.

“Castiel! Open up!” She yelled, knocking on the door to the ex-angel’s cabin. Castiel slides the door open, a lit joint in one hand. He looks at her strangely, eyeing the vodka bottle clasped in her hand, noticing that her hair is unbound and her jeans are just-washed, and then steps aside so she can walk in. “Can I stay here tonight?” She asks, not looking at him. Instead she gulps from the bottle. 

She never drinks vodka. Not anymore. Not since she was a rogue hunter, estranged from her father and alienated from her brothers. Not since before she knew him. Before he proclaimed her the Prophetess of the Apocalypse, before she was the voice crying out in the desert, before Sam. “What happened to you, Jamie?” He asks, take a step towards her. He reaches out to her but she pulls aside. “Who did this to you?”

“Did what?” She asks, quietly. “No one did anything to me. Dean’s got a girl and they’re…loud. That’s all.” He knows she’s lying. He doesn’t need his residual angel abilities for that. But she obviously doesn’t want to talk, so he shuts his mouth and offers her his bed.

“You know, eventually you’re going to have to talk about what happened with him.” It’s been three weeks. She’s barely spoken a word to Dean in all that time. She avoids him whenever possible; often she spends the night with Castiel, much to the annoyance of his numerous women. They all know that Jamie Winchester does not share her men. Not that their relationship was like that. It never had been.

The ex-angel is sitting crossed leg on the bed, staring at her. She’s sitting on the edge, a bucket by her feet and a white stick in her hand. “Especially since, unless I’m illiterate, that says positive.”

She glances down at the stick and then towards him. Those piercing, clear, blue eyes of hers have a way of haunting him to the pits of his soul. He’ll never understand how Dean could get drunk enough to turn those blue eyes green. “I can’t. What do I say…you got drunk, beat the shit out of me, thought I was Sam, raped me, and now I’m pregnant?”

“For starters.” She scoffs, getting off the bed and walking over to the wall. “Jamie.” Castiel got off the bed and put his arms around her. “You’re going to have a baby.” He whispers, putting his chin on her shoulder. He rubs her stomach and smiles.

“I’m having a bastard sired by my own brother.” She mutters. “Not to mention the world is ending out there. You don’t bring a baby into this.”

“Maybe this is exactly why you bring a baby into this. Hope isn’t dead yet, Jamie. Not while you and Dean are here fighting for a future. And this child, this child will be born of you both, he’ll have all that is good and strong in both of you.”

“All that was good and strong in both of us is long gone. Dean may be Michael’s vessel, but the angels are gone. And I am not the voice. Not anymore.”

“You two were good and strong before the angels. Before Dean was the Righteous Man. Before you were the Prophetess. Your child is a Winchester. The descendant of John Winchester and Mary Campbell. His father is the great demon hunter. His mother is the vampire slayer. No other child can say that.”

A tear slips down her face. She puts her hand on her stomach, looking down. She then leans back into Castiel. “You’re right. Thanks.” He hugs her closer.

“Jamie?” Dean walks into Castiel’s cabin. He and Jamie turn towards him. “Jamie? What has been going on with you the last couple of weeks? I need you here, and you’re so distant.”

“I’m pregnant, Dean.” She says softly, glances at him and then at the floor.

“What?” He says automatically. “You’re…you’re pregnant?” She nods. He immediately looks at Castiel. “Dude! I told you before that my sister is off limits!”

“Oh please.” The ex-angel brushes off the insinuation with a dismissive hand. “We all know that if I was going to sleep with a Winchester which one I’d choose.”

“Cas isn’t the father.” Her voice has lost its command, its resolve, its potency. Dean hasn’t failed to notice. 

“Then who is? Tell me so I can kick his ass.”

“That might be difficult.” Castiel says with a slight smirk, his face twisted in amusement. Jamie glares at him.

“Why? Is he dead?” Dean crosses his arms and looks at his sister.

“He’s you.” She tells him, quietly.

“Huh?”

“He’s you.” She says louder. “You’re the father.” 


	2. Part of Me Has Died

“What are you thinking about?” This voice shook her out of her memory. She blinked a couple times and turned to look at her brother. “Jamie? You’ve been staring at me for the last five minutes. What are you thinking about?”

She shook her head and tried to smile. “I was just…remembering.”

“Remembering what?” He stepped away from the table and walked over to her, putting his hands on her arms and looking down at her.

“The…the day I told you I was pregnant.” She glanced up at his face to gage his reaction.

He smiled, but there was a look of sadness in his eyes. “Not one of my finer moments.” He said softly, reaching up to smooth back her bangs. His finger grazed the scar on her temple just a little and they both cringed at the touch. He didn’t speak to her for two days after he found out. He didn’t speak to anyone for two days. Then finally Castiel stepped in. “Till Cas straightened me out and told me to be a man. Told me there was this helpless, defenseless creature growing inside you that needed me more than anyone else.” She tried to smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He whispered.

A year and a half earlier…

She was awakened by the sound of the alarm blaring just outside her window. The siren meant trouble from the outside, an evil presence close to the camp. She moved out of bed as fast as her sixth months pregnant stomach would allow, struggling to get into her boots and grab her olive overshirt. She had switched with Dean. His was a size bigger; it fit her better now that she was carrying a child. She unshealthed her gun from the belt hanging in the closet and went outside. 

“What’s going on, what is it?” Chuck met her at the door to her and Dean’s cabin, his face concerned and she searched his face for the answer.

“Vampires.” He hissed. “They’re coming.” Vampires. Great. And Dean and his team were in the city on a mission, they wouldn’t be back for at least an hour. A scream sounded through the camp and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before looking at Chuck.

“Get everyone into the bunker and seal the door. Now!” She shoved Chuck back and turned to go back into the cabin.

“What about you?” Chuck called.

“Don’t worry about me! Just get everyone in the damn bunker!” She rushed inside the cabin and headed for Dean’s room. Tearing open the doors to his closet she hunted around for a moment until she found what she was looking for: a box of syringes and a machete. The sirens were growing louder and she groaned, belting the blade to her side and hiding the syringes in the pouch at her hip.

When she emerged from the cabin a second time, the grounds were almost deserted. She glanced around at the stillness, trying to not to let it disturb her. They called her the vampire slayer once upon a time, because she was quick, agile, and able to take out a nest without breaking a sweat. She knew the signs to look for, and she could read their weaknesses. This was no different, she told herself. In fact it was better, they were out in the open, they could not move without her detecting their presence.

“I know you’re here.” She whispered, glancing at the bribed wire gate, torn apart from its hinges.

“Jace Winchester.” A voice hissed from the shadows. She whirled around towards the sound of the voice, gritting her teeth at the nickname.

“I can smell your rotting corpse, you parasite.” She spat, her blue eyes darted in all directions, even as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She took a step forward and then kicked off, jumping over the vampire with a backflip. She landed behind him, drawing her blade and decapitated him with one smooth blow. The corpse dropped to the ground but Jamie had to bend forward to get catch her breath. “Oh shit.” She muttered, realizing how much the move had taken out of her.

Just as she got her breath back she was ambushed by two more vamps. Cussing loudly she waved her hand sending one into the other. She raised her other hand and pointed to the closest vamp. He levitated into the air and Jamie squeezed her hand into a fist, the action causing the monster to be decapitated. The female vamp watched in shock before getting up and trying to run. “Oh no you don’t you son of a bitch!” She grabbed unto her machete and threw it. It sailed through the air like a boomerang, taking the head off of the third vamp even as she ran away.

Once again Jamie bent at the waist, trying to get her breath. Sweat poured down her brow and she winced softly, realizing the child she carried in her womb was awake, it’s feet making sharp contact with her ribs as she heaved for breath. “Winded are we, Jace?” She glanced up, eyeing the vampire in front of her. She straightened as she felt two more come at her from opposite sides. She took a step back, sliding into fighting stance. Her blade was stuck into the side of one of the cabins a few feet away. The vampire in front of her caught her glance and shook his head. “Don’t even think about it.” He said, wagging his finger as if he was scolding her.

“You really think you’re a match for me?” She asked, trying to hide the exhaustion in her voice. “I have killed your kind by the dozens.”

“So they tell me, vampire slayer. But you’ve lost a step. Or three.” A fourth vampire jumped down from the roof of the cabin, planting her on the ground and grabbing unto her and slashing at her with her fingernails. Jamie cried out as she felt her ribs crack under the pressure and her own blood bubble to the surface. She grabbed for the syringe hidden in her pouch. She stabbed the vampire in the leg, depressing the syringe quickly before throwing her off. The other two vampires moved in but Jamie was faster, she sat up and caught them in her telekinetic grip. Staring at the vampire in front of her as she rose to her feet, she curled her hands into fists, gritting her teeth as she heard their heads hit the ground. The lips of the lead vampire turned up slightly in a smirk, as he caught the scent of her blood radiating from her chest and stomach, but his eyes went wild with blood lust when he caught the scent of the blood that began to gust from her nose. Jamie did not take her eyes off him, even as her chest heaved and depressed too quickly for her broken ribs, causing her vision to swim. Her body spent, and her consciousness slipping she turned quickly to gesture for the blade, only to find it gone. Her eyes widened in horror and she quickly turned back to the lead vamp, only to find his head at his feet and her brother standing behind him, her machete in his hand.

“Jamie!” Dean yelled, tossing the blade aside as he rushed for her. She fainted in his arms.

“Jamie?” She opened her eyes slowly, swallowing back cotton as she inhaled sharply, feeling the pain in her ribs. She felt Dean’s hand on her shoulder, holding her down against the bed. “Hey.” He muttered. She looked at him as her vision cleared and saw his face was grave.

“What happened?” She asked, moaning softly as she shifted positions. “Is everyone alright? The vamps didn’t get them did they?”

“Everyone’s fine. You got the nest that attacked. Jamie.” She looked at him again when he said her name and waited for him to go on. “When that vamp took you down, you…it…you got really hurt, and…” He was choking on his words. Very few times had she seen him so broken up. Something was very wrong if it put her brother in this state. A moment past and then her eyes widened in realization and fear.

“No! No! No!” She yelled shifting under the blanket, trying to sit up. “No!” Dean tried to hold her still but she fought his hold, tearing the blanket away. She gazed down at her stomach in shock and horror, tears coming fast. “No!” She yelled.

“Jamie…we couldn’t…we couldn’t do anything.” Dean heaved himself unto the bed, forcing her to hold still. “You went into labor and we couldn’t stop it and he just…he was just too small.” Her brother fell against her shoulder and sobbed. And she sobbed with him.

“I am so sorry, Jamie.” She blinked, pulling herself back into reality. Dean was still standing in front of her, holding her against him. 

“I know.” She muttered rubbing her arm awkwardly. “It wasn’t your fault.” She can’t remember the number of times she’s told him that. Even now the words seem to dry up before they even leave her mouth. She doesn’t blame him for the loss of their son. She blames herself. She always has and she always will. Blames herself so much that one night the pain was too much.

Over and over the battle plays in her head. Over and over she thinks about what she could have done to save her unborn child, and it consumes her. It consumes her to the point that one night, when Dean and the rest of the camp is asleep, she slips into an old tool shed and finds a power drill with enough battery power to the drive the bit into her skull. But there is no mercy, no pity left in the world. The wound doesn’t kill her. Instead Dean finds her still alive the next morning, and for a week she lies in a coma. When she wakes up none of the pain, none of the memories are gone; instead all she’s done is destroy her abilities. Her psychic powers are all but gone. She has only glimpses now, nothing but a shadow of the power she previously possessed.

“I was so stupid.” She hisses, looking up at Dean. “If I hadn’t done this…maybe, maybe I could’ve…” She turns away. Her brother knows what she’s talking about and doesn’t say anything. “I feel him, Dean.” Her body tenses. She breaths in rasping gasps. “I feel him all the time.” Dean opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything; instead he grabs his sister and pulls her against his chest. “And it’s not Sam. Not anymore. It’s all him.” Tears flow down her face and Dean holds her as tight as possible, staring straight ahead, determined. 


	3. It All Seems So Unfair

She crossed her arms and stiffened her shoulders before looking up at him. He stared down at her, his green eyes so determined, so set on what he was prepared to do. She had to look away. “Jamie.” He said softly, reaching out and putting his hands on her shoulders.

“It’s bad enough that you are walking, willingly, into a trap. But you’re taking Cas with you.” When she looked back up at him her blue eyes were full of tears. “Don’t you understand?” She pushed him away from her, putting her face in her hand, trying to compose herself.

“I have to do this.” He whispered, running his hand comfortingly up her arm. “I have to do this.” He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her tightly to his chest. He entangled his fingers in her soft blonde hair, holding her while she cried.

“What am I suppose to do when you’re gone? How am I supposed to keep going?” She pulled back and looked at him. He smiled sadly, brushes away her tears with his thumb. She reached up and squeezed his hands. “What do you want me to do?”

“You run. And you keep running. You don’t let him find you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“You want me to be a coward?”

“I want you to live!” He stared at her, his gaze piercing through to her very soul. “You are the only thing I have left in this world. And I will be damned before I let him destroy the one last thing I care about.” He kissed away the fresh tears that fell from her eyes and then pulled away. She sighed and grabbed his hand, following him out to the road.

They stand in front of the trunks, which are packed and ready to go. The men hurry to finish loading around them. Castiel wraps her in a one arm hug before pulling away and walking to his jeep. She raises a hand in farewell and turns around, turns back to him. He turns and pulls her into a tight hug. She hugs him back. When he pulls away he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his amulet. She moves her hair out of the way as he hangs it around her neck. “If I fail-“

“No.” She shakes her head. “Don’t talk like that. Not now.”

He presses his lips into a thin line, pausing for a moment and then continues. “If I fail don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him find you. Understand? You run, and you keep running. Promise me.” 

“I promise.”

He leans and whispers softly into her ear. “I love you.” She grabs unto him and hugs him tightly.

“I love you, Dean.” She says, trying hard to hold back another flood of tears. She pulls back and holds his face in her hands. He looks at her, his dark eyes searching her face. She moves closer, and he pulls her into a kiss. The moment his lips meet hers a frenzy builds in the core of her being. She deepens the kiss, curling her fingers against his back. He pulls her hair loose and whines the fingers of one hand through the cascading strains. With the other he grabs for her thigh, and she obliges, grabbing his shoulder for support as she locks her thighs around his. “I don’t want you to leave.” She whispers, breaking the kiss. He stares into her blue eyes and finds her lips again. She doesn’t mean that she doesn’t want him to leave the camp, though she wishes for that too, she means she doesn’t want him to die.

It’s in this moment that they both realize he’ll not be coming back. It’s the way he holds her, the way she kisses him, the way they press their foreheads together as they both gasp for air. It’s not because it doesn’t feel wrong. It was never about wrong. She isn’t the first sibling he’s kissed like this, and she stopped believing in morality a long time ago. It’s because it feels so real. For the first time since their child was alive in her womb they can feel the love that one has for the other. Green eyes and blue eyes meet and it’s all written in those eyes and in their souls. “I’ll never leave you.” He whispers, giving her another kiss. “I’ll always be right here.” He puts his hand against her chest, just over her heart. They share a final kiss and then break their holds of each other. She watches him walk to his jeep with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face stoic and eyes grave.

It’s the look she has when Chuck and his team come back with the bodies. He finds her standing at the window, staring into the abyss of the too-still night. “Jamie.” Never has she hated the sound of her own name as much as she does when Chuck enters her cabin. She hates the pity that infects each syllable of her name. And she knows. She knows the cabin is solely hers now. She knows who the body on the stretcher belongs to. She knows that she will never see his green eyes again. “I’m sorry.” He mutters as they lay the stretcher down on the table. She finally turns, a single tear falls down her cheek as she forces herself to reach out and lace her warm fingers through his cold ones. She kisses the hand that just hours before was wiping away her tears. Now they’re just flesh without an owner. She slid the silver ring off his finger, their mother’s wedding band, and clipped it unto her charm bracelet.  

Everyone in the camp comes to watch her burn his body. When Dean went to hell she wore his clothes for the 4 months he was gone. It’s no different this time. It’s his olive green shirt on her back, she’s burning him in hers, not that anyone but her knows this. She’s wearing her own jeans, but the black t-shirt is his. It’s his utility belt too, and his gun she has strapped to her thigh, and of course his amulet around her neck. She moves her hair back from her face as she tosses the salt canister away and throws the match unto the plywood stretcher. Smoke and flames rise as the fire spreads, aided by gasoline.

She doesn’t let herself cry this time. Too many tears have been shed in the last hours, and many are sure to come. This is not the time for her to cry. This is the time for her to be strong. For the refugees to see that their new leader is sturdy and capable. She tries to appear that way. Tries hard. But inside her resolve has crumbled. Her strength is all but gone. And fear and doubt and despair linger in her heart. She knows all too well what her brother’s death means.

“Jamie?” It’s dawn all too early. Not that she was expecting to be able to sleep. She leans heavily against the wall when she finds Chuck at her door. “What do we do now?”

She wants to answer “Go ask Cas. Cas will know.” But Cas is gone too. For the first time in her life, she is truly alone, because there is literally no one left. Not even Sam. “Lucifer is coming for me.” She whispers. Chuck’s face crumbles in horror. She sighs and pulls him inside. She doesn’t want to cause more panic and fear then is already taken root in the camp. She especially doesn’t want to give them another reason to doubt her ability to lead. She doubts herself enough for all of them. She doesn’t need a mutiny. The door slams with a bang and Chuck jumps.

“What do you mean Lucifer is coming for you?” Chuck demands, though he tries to hide the shaking in his voice.

“Did you really think he wouldn’t?”

“Well…what are you to him?”

“What am I to him?” She raises an eyebrow and moves her hair back. He looks sheepish, thinking he’s offended her. In a way he has. She may not be the prophetess any longer, but she is still a Winchester. She is still John’s daughter. “The angels are gone, Chuck. They aren’t dead. Michael isn’t dead.” She turns away and crosses her arms tightly over her chest trying to stay calm.

“But with Dean…I-I mean…Michael doesn’t have a vessel.”

“Michael had 3 vessels in this generation.” She says, turning back to him. “Dean was his true vessel. Adam, if he had lived, would have been a replacement vessel, not ideal but still functional. And I am the third. My power of prophesy prevented Michael from entering, but I am still John Winchester’s child.”

“So Lucifer is worried that Michael will come back?”

“No.” She shook her head turning away again. “It’s worse than that. I’m John Winchester’s daughter, which means that any child of mine is capable of baring Michael.” She turned back to Chuck. “Lucifer isn’t coming to kill me; he’s coming to turn me.”

“Why? It would be so much easier to kill you. Why go through that kind of trouble?”

“Because of what a child born of a Winchester would be. A child born of a Winchester and the devil, a child born of Sam and Jamie Winchester would possess power beyond reckoning. Think about it; think about the kind of power that Sam and I have separately. If you put it together…”

“That kind of power would be unimaginable. It’s enough to…” Chuck’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped open.

Jamie nodded. “It would be enough to storm the gates of Heaven. It would be enough to kill Michael. That’s why he sent the vampires. That’s why he killed my son. With or without Michael, Dean’s child, my child, would have had the power to kill the devil. And conversely Sam’s child would be enough to kill Michael. He needs that child. He’s going to come for me. It’s only a matter of time.”

“So what are you going to do?”

 She brought out a gold band and showed it to Chuck. “Dean had this around his neck. This is War’s ring.” She holds up her hand, showing Chuck the engraved silver ring with a black stone. “This is Famine’s.” She gestures to Chuck and goes into her bedroom. She walks over to the closet and pulls out a small backpack at the very bottom. Reaching into a pocket, she pulls out a gold ring with a green stone. “And this…this is Pestilence’s.”

Chuck walks over and looked at the rings. “Okay, Sam and Dean told me about War. Famine, I remember, you and Dean were immune to his desire thing. But how did you get Pestilence?” He looks at her.

“I didn’t.” She glances at them and then looked at the floor. “Sam did. He uh…just before he left for Detroit, he sent me this.” She holds up the bag. “It’s not much. I mean it’s stupid things, his white shirt that I loved, his watch, this damn thing.” She pulled out a knife with the blade curved like a claw. She chuckles. “And the ring.” She stares down at the blade and sighs, running her thumb over the silver markings. This bag was all that remained of her twin, her brother, her real brother, her Sam, not the vessel of Lucifer. Her heart aches as she stares at the bag, her mind flooded with memories of Sam’s betrayal. She never told Dean about what happened between them when he was in hell. She never told him how Sam left her after he stopped the crossroads demon. How all she had to do was look into his eyes and she could see that he wasn’t her brother anymore.

Everything Sam did, everything he was, always stood in polar opposite to herself. She was the younger twin by minutes, but they were born on the opposite sides of midnight. May 3rd, her birthday, is the feast of James the Less, the brother of the Lord. And therein lay the difference. Sam was poisoned as a baby, destined to be Lucifer's vessel, but she was born a psychic in her own right, and awakened as a prophet, as a servant of Michael. From the moment of her birth she was bound to the righteous man, and not the brother she shared a womb with. And that’s how they ended up here. If the bond between herself and Dean had been just a little weaker, if she could have stood with Sam just a little longer. The thoughts flooding her mind threaten tears, but she won’t let them fall.  “Anyway.” She shakes her head. “I have three of the four Horsemen’s rings. If I can get Death’s, maybe…just maybe.”

“Maybe what? I don’t understand the significance.”

She looked up, scoffing a little. “There was one more thing that Sam sent me. I couldn’t read it until last night.” She takes out a letter and unfolds it. “It’s written in Enochian, don’t ask me how Sam wrote it, or if he even did, but it says something about Lucifer’s cage and the rings being a key. And there’s an incantation: Bvtmon tabges babalon.” Chuck looks at her and walks over to look at the letter.

“But Jamie…” He looks up at her. “You haven’t been able to read Enochian since…”

“Since I was the Voice. I know. I don’t know what’s happening to me. All I know is that I’ve looked at that letter a million times, and last night the words were clear as day. They’re even clearer now.” She glances at Chuck. “I know what I have to do, now. I have to leave. I have to find Death. You’re in charge here, now. I am not going to ask you or anyone else to come with me. I’m done sending other men to die for me.” She gets up, grabbing a duffel bag out of her closet and begins to pack.

“Jamie…Good luck.” Chuck finally says. She nods. “What…can I do…do you need a jeep or…”

“I want Dean’s wheels, honestly.” It’s a stupid request, one born out the remnants of her hope that she can be Dean for a world where Dean no longer exists. If she wears his clothes, drives his wheels, maybe she can make herself believe that she’s even half the hunter Dean was. Half as brave, half as strong, half as good. She drops the duffel bag on the bed and walks out of her room into Dean’s.

Chuck stands in her room, thinking for a moment. “Hey, you know…I can’t do anything about the Impala, but…your father’s pick-up still runs.” He leans back calling into the next room. “Last time Dean and I checked it out.”

Jamie appears again, carrying another duffel. “Perfect.” She drops the second duffel on the bed and holds up Dean’s old brown leather jacket and a pair of scissors. “You mind stepping out for a minute?” She nods towards the door. Chuck clears his throat and leaves the room. On a whim, Jamie waves her hand towards the door. It blows shut. She pauses for a second and then looks back, her mouth opening in shock. She waves her hand again, this time to pull the door open, but it doesn’t budge. She sighs in defeat. “Damn.”

She emerges dressed in her old hunting clothes: black sneakers, grey jeans, black tank top, her charm bracelet, Dean’s amulet, Sam’s watch, utility belt with Dean’s gun, Ruby’s knife, and Sam’s curved blade, and Dean’s brown leather jacket. She hacked her hair off at the shoulder. “You’ve got your brothers’ look.” Chuck tells her. “Never thought I’d see your hair that short again. It looks nice.” She gives him a look and he shuts up.

“I’m not coming back.” She whispers as she heaves one of the bags over her shoulder and takes the keys from Chuck. “I won’t ever see this place again.” She stares around the small room before turning back to the former prophet.

“You can do this, Jamie. You have to.”

She nods slowly, opening the door. The night air quickly chills her to the bone. She has to do this. She has no choice. She crosses the threshold and stones herself against the death and destruction that will soon engulf her. Against the doubt and fear clutched so tightly around her heart that she can barely take a breath. She knows that in this moment she is truly and completely alone. “You haven’t won, Lucifer. Not yet. There is one more Winchester left, and she will not go down without a fight.”  


	4. Just Beyond the Churchyard Gate

The road was dim and dark, even under the weak glow of the headlights. Jamie watched as the minutes and hours ticked by, still unsure of where exactly she was going. There was a map on the seat beside her, a deep red circle still prominent despite being worn and yellowed with age. She could think of so many places where she might find Death, but she resolved to start with the place where Lucifer first raised him, in Carthage, Missouri.

“Dean, I don’t know if I can do this.” She says out loud, staring at the asphalt. The silence that greets her is too much. The tears come before she can stop them. After a moment she pulls over unto the side of the road and starts to sob. “Dean.” She whispered, putting her hand over her face as the tears flow.

“Uh!” Suddenly she’s hit with a vision. She sees Dean confronting Lucifer in Sam’s body. The vision plays out only in brief flashes, and she grabs her head, squeezing her eyes shut. The scar on the side of her head burns. “Ahh!” She continues to see flashes of her brothers, including Lucifer snapping Dean’s neck as he lies defenseless on the ground. The flashes end and Jamie leans forward against the stirring wheel, sobbing.

“Please. Please. I can’t do this by myself.” She chokes out. “Please.”

“You know you’re pretty pathetic, right?” A voice says. She’s suddenly aware of the presence next to her. She raises her head slowly, swallowing hard. In one smooth movement she grabs for the knife in her belt and lunges toward the source of the voice, only to be flung back hard against the driver’s side door. “Hello, Jamie.” She groans in pain and opens her eyes. The man sitting beside her raises an eyebrow as he stares at her. “Uh!” She gasps, grabbing for the scar. “Easy, Harry Potter.” He jokes, reaching out to her. She instantly pulls away. “Woah, woah. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” She asks, heaving for breath as she wipes her eyes with an impatient hand. “What are you?”

He scoffs, and then grins as he shakes his head. “I didn’t want to believe it, honestly. The great Jamie Winchester reduced to normal. Jacey, really?”

Jamie stared at him for a moment, his sharp features are familiar, and suddenly realization dawned on her face. “Gabriel.” She hissed. She gritted her teeth, sneering at him. “The prodigal son decides to make his appearance now?” She lashes out and slugs him across the face. “You son of a bitch.”

He chuckles, putting a hand to his bleeding nose. “Now that was the reaction I was expecting from you.”

“My brother is dead! You, you were the only one that could help us! I prayed to you every goddamn night for YEARS! We thought you were dead. We thought you joined Lucifer. Hell, we figured you made up with Michael and left!”

“I did leave.” He tells her, staring at her. “I did. But heaven isn’t as deaf as you think.”

“Really? Since when?”

“Since Dean died.” She stares at him and then angrily throws her door open, getting out of the truck and starting to walk down the road. Gabriel appears beside her. “Jamie.” He reaches out to her.

“No!” She spins and slaps his hand away. “Are you here to tell me that Michael finally has the balls to get his ass down here and do what he’s supposed to? Now that it’s too fucking late?”

“No.” She turns away from him, and starts walking again. “I’m here to tell you how to find Death.” She stops walking, looking over her shoulder. He walks towards her. “I’m here to help you fight Lucifer.”

“Why?” She wipes her eyes again, looking away and then turning back to him. “Why you, why now?”

“Because I can sympathize. Unlike my brothers,” He glances up at the sky. “I actually have some affection for you humans.” He shrugs. “I have affection for you. I understand your plight. Why you didn’t want either one of them to say yes.”

“My plight?”

“Mmmhmm. See I would have had to watch my own brothers kill each other, just like you.”

“Yeah, except Michael ran away and your brother killed mine. And I’m going to kill him.”

“Hmm.” He smirks. “Yeah. I understand that now, but do you.” He takes a step towards her. “Do you understand that you have to kill Sam.”

“Sam is already dead.” Her voice was hoarse, trapped in her throat. “He’s already dead.”

Gabriel nodded. “So. Let’s hunt down Death, shall we.” He held his hand out to her. She hesitated for a moment and then took his hand. “You have to work on your trust issues.”

They appeared in an abandoned sports bar. Jamie looked around in confusion. “What the hell?” She turned to Gabriel. “What does Death like burgers or something?”

“Pizza, actually.” A new voice answered. Jamie whirled back around to find a skeleton-like figure in a suit sitting at one of the tables. He had a large slice of pizza on a plate in front of him. “Too bad Lucifer has wiped out the best ones.” He pushes the pizza away and shifts to face them. “Gabriel, what a pleasant surprise. I was expecting the Winchester girl, but an archangel, interesting.” He put his chin between his fingers, cocking his head slightly as he looked at them.

“You were expecting me?” Jamie steps back a little, her eyes darting around the room. She was just waiting for Lucifer’s demons to jump out at her.

“Indeed. Don’t worry, we’re quite alone.” He gestures to the chair in front of him. “Have a seat.” Jamie looks at Gabriel who nods. She crosses the room and slowly sits down. “Now, I believe this is what you’re after.” He holds up his hand, showing her the ring on his hand. Jamie nods slowly, her body still stiff with distrust and uncertainty. “Good. You can have it.” He takes the ring off and places it on the table in front of her.

Jamie raises an eyebrow, looking at Death. She relaxes a little. “Wait, this is too easy. You’re Death, why would you want to help me?”

Death chuckled and leaned back in his seat. “You really outta heal that nasty scar, Gabriel.” The archangel stared at the horseman for a moment and then walked over to Jamie. He put his hand against her temple. When he jerked his hand away, the scar disappeared. “There now, isn’t that better?” Jamie gasped and gripped the table as a million images and sounds rushed through her mind. The force of it was strong enough to knock her to the floor, and she pressed her forehead against the cement, crying out in pain. A wave of nausea washed over her quickly and she vomited unto the ground. “Well maybe not better.”

“Jamie?” Gabriel got down beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. Another wave of nausea hit and she emptied what was left in her stomach unto the floor. With shaking hands she grabbed her head, rubbing her temples with desperation of some relief.

“Jesus Christ.” She gasped, her chest heaving as she tried to take a full breath. She turned wide eyes towards Death. “Lucifer has you bound. You’re not loyal to him. You’re not loyal to…to anyone.” Death smiled gently. “But…but why me? Why…do you think I can defeat Lucifer?”

Death paused for a moment and then leaned forward. “Because my dear, you are the only one left.” With a cold wind Death disappeared. His ring clattered unto the table. Jamie turned around and threw up again unto the floor.

“I don’t get it.” She was sitting on a dirty, torn mattress in an abandoned motel room. Gabriel leaned against the wall across from her. She had her hand held out, over her keys in front of her. She looked up him. “My telepathy is back with full force, I’m having visions again, and my precognition is getting stronger, so what is wrong with my telekinesis?”

“Your abilities took time to develop. It’s going to take time for you to be able to use them again.” The archangel answered. He uncrossed his arms and walked over to her. “Here, concentrate, focus. You had to see things to move them in the beginning, remember?”

She sighed and focused her eyes on the keys. It took a minute but they twitched and floated up about an inch from the bed, before Jamie groaned, blinking, and they fell again. “Ugh!” She cried out in frustration. “Damnit! How am I suppose to defeat Lucifer if I can’t even get a set of keys off the ground?”

Gabriel sighed, putting his hands on her shoulders. “We have time.”

“We’re out of time. We were out of time when my brother died.” At the word brother the tears come on quickly. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears, sniffing and looking up. The archangel tightened his grip on her shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly. “I’m not ready, Gabriel. I’m never going to be ready. I’m not Dean. It was suppose to be Dean.”

“Prophetess,” Gabriel said stiffly, the word sounding foreign in his mouth. “The power you possess is beyond measure, you just have to tap into it. You are powerful enough to stop Lucifer, it’s you and only you who keep you from doing this. You’re right, you’re not Dean. But you’re not Sam either. You’re not weak.”  


	5. She Never Really Had a Chance

“Hey isn’t that big brother’s piece of crap jacket?” Jamie looked down and then turned to Gabriel.

“It’s not a piece of crap.” She said quietly, tightening the buckles on her utility belt.

“See that is just the reaction you cannot be having when someone, anyone, brings up your brother.” She glanced over at him. “Especially Lucifer.” He walked over to her. “He will punt kick you with everything he’s got, including Dean.”

“He killed Dean. That’s all I need.”

“This is Lucifer, Jamie. Not your average run of the mill demon.”

Jamie whirled around and grabbed Gabriel by the throat, shoving him against the wall with a bang. “Listen to me, you feathery dick, I know that it’s Lucifer. I know he’s in the form of Sam. But I loved Dean more then everything, and he took him from me. He took my son from me. So I am fully capable of having the “right” reaction.” She pulled away and turned around.

“Mmm.” Gabriel cleared his throat and stepped away from the wall. “Well then. Shall we?”

“Do you even know where to start?” Jamie asked as they walked down an abandoned street. “I mean do you have full on archangel powers to track the devil?”

“Finding Lucifer isn’t the problem. It’s just a matter whether he finds us first.” Gabriel looked around. “What do you say, do we serve up Jamie Winchester on a platter, or do we play hard to get?” Jamie looked over at him, confused. “I would decide in the next 3 seconds.” He pointed to the street. She caught sight of five demons advancing towards them.

She nodded to herself, and then turned around. “Get away from me!” She yelled pushing Gabriel back, and running away from him. 

“You think you can run from me, Jamie?” Gabriel yelled back. He disappeared and reappeared in front of her. “I’m an angel. You don’t even have powers anymore.”

“Gabriel?” The demons took the bait surrounding Jamie and Gabriel. “I thought you were gone?” The lead demon stepped forward. Jamie did her best to look afraid, which was not that hard considering the demon was possessing a tall, dark haired man built like a tank with a long, jagged scar across his face and tattooed biceps. Gabriel had grabbed her by the wrists and twisted her arms behind her. She heard a click and felt metal around her wrists. She struggled in his grip. The demon flashed black eyes staring down at her. “Jamie Winchester.” He grinned sadistically and then looked at Gabriel. “What do we owe the pleasure of you catching her for us?”

Gabriel grinned. “A present for my brother. A token of my…submission.” He told them casually. The lead demon licked his lips as he continued to stare down at Jamie. He reached out to stroke her face, but Gabriel yanked her roughly aside. “Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “I’m sure Lucifer gave you instructions to bring her to him unspoiled. Right?” The demon considered for a moment and then reached out to take her from Gabriel. Once again Gabriel yanked her just out of his reach. “I’d like to deliver her myself, if you don’t mind?” The archangel flashed a smile and the demon glanced over his shoulder at his companions. His expression wasn’t a pleased one, no doubt he wished to bring the prized hunt to Lucifer himself, but he nodded to Gabriel.

A second later they appeared in front of an apartment building. The hair on Jamie’s neck stood straight up just at the sight of it. It was run down and crumbling. Around them the air temperature was almost freezing and if it had not been for the way Gabriel held her Jamie felt as though her skin would turn to ice. She shivered even under the weight of Dean’s leather jacket as they mounted the stairs and entered the building.

They were lead into a small room where a man dressed in white was staring out the window. He breathed unto the window and it iced over. “Sorry it’s so cold, Jamie. I can’t help it.” He turned around and Jamie’s shoulders stiffened at the sight of Sam’s green eyes staring at her. She trembled in Gabriel’s tight grip. His eyes were dull and lifeless, but they were still Sam’s eyes. “You’re trembling. What’s the matter?” He took a step forward. She struggled against the archangel’s grip, every fiber of her being screaming at her to run. Lucifer reached over and ran his hand across her face. She gasped out with a wail of pain and despair at the touch of Dean’s killer and Sam’s destroyer.

Her cry gripped Gabriel’s heart, though he tried his best not to show it. He really didn’t understand how anyone, even Lucifer himself, couldn’t be momentarily shook by the sound the prophet made, that high pitched broken hearted sob that should have broken windows and made the ground crumble at their feet. And afterall, Jamie was a prophet of their father. Even Lucifer was bound to her in some way, however small and insignificant. “Here brother, a token of my submission.” He finally said, casting his eyes down at the ground in respect.

“Gabriel. I thought you left.” Lucifer grinned, reaching over and stroking his younger brother’s face. “So nice to see you again. How’s Michael?”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen him in a millennia.” He shot back with a sincere smirk.

Lucifer laughed. Jamie shook at the sound, tears running down her face. She wasn’t strong enough for this. She didn’t have the will to do this. She was not the leader that Dean had been. She was not hardened or cold. She was not Dean, and she never would be. She loved her brother too much, regardless of everything else. It didn’t matter that Sam was dead inside, he was still her brother, her twin, her blood. And standing here in his presence she could not bring herself to hate him as she should, even though she knew she stood in the presence of Lucifer. Doubt is the true sin of mankind, and she had enough doubt for a lifetime many times over. Doubt is the true weakness of mankind, and Jamie has always been weak.

“Did you not think I wouldn’t see through this, brother?” Lucifer demanded, a smirk on his face. Gabriel’s own face grew dark. “I know you’ve come to assassinate me. For shame, your own brother.” He waged his finger as though scolding a child.

In the blink of an eye, Gabriel drew forth his archangel blade, cutting free Jamie, and shoving her aside. “Now, Jamie!” He demanded. Jamie looked up, quickly wiping her eyes as she whirled around and threw her hands out. In another world, in another time, her powers would be strong enough to repel Lucifer’s demons. It would throw them back; stun them long enough that she could kill each and every one. But that was not this world, and Jamie was not strong enough. Her power was not strong enough, what managed to conjure up was barely felt by the guards that seized her even as she killed one or two with the knife before it was ripped from her.

“Gabriel, help me!”

Gabriel broke away, but Lucifer would not allow him the opportunity to smite the demons and free the girl. Instead he was forced to continually defend against Lucifer. Even with the archangel blade, he could not kill his older brother. Lucifer laughed again as he and Gabriel fought. “You did not seriously think that Jamie would be strong enough to kill me, did you? If Dean fell what in all of Dad’s creation makes you think that pathetic girl could rise higher than him? I broke her a long time ago, and she has broken herself ever since.” Gabriel was strong, and fast, and skilled with the sword, but Lucifer was greater. Armed with his true vessel Lucifer’s power was unmatched even by the powerful archangel. “Remember who taught you these things, little brother.” Lucifer hissed as he disarmed the angel of his sword. “Time to die.”

“Gabriel!” Jamie screamed as Lucifer ran the blade threw the archangel’s chest. “No!” Tears ran down her face as she watched the burning light flow out of Gabriel’s chest, and the empty vessel crumble to the ground.

“Too bad.” Lucifer said softly with a click of his tongue as he stared sadly down at Gabriel’s body and the wing imprints on the floor. “He was one of my favorites too. But much must be sacrificed in war.” He turned around and walked toward Jamie. “Right, Jacey?” He cocked his head as he ran his hand down her cheek. She looked at the ground.

“What are you going to do to me?” She asked, her throat tight with tears and despair.

“That depends. Join me, Jamie. Bare me a son strong enough to storm Heaven. Once I kill Michael and God, we’ll rule the universe together.” He leaned in, stroking her hair back from her face.

She was quiet for a moment, tears streaming down her face. “No.” She finally answered. “Just kill me and get it over with.” She spat.

Lucifer stepped back, laughing. Always laughing. “Oh no, my love. You will join me, and you will give me my Anti-Christ, one way or another.” He reached forward and ripped the rings from her belt. “Take her down to the basement.” He said to the burly demon on her right.

As she was lead away, Jamie didn’t bother to fight. It was useless. She had failed. She had failed the world. She had failed Chuck and the others. And worst of all she had failed Dean. Despair had overtaken her, and now nothing could mitigate her fate. 


	6. Relive the Anguish of My Past

Jamie winced softly as she tugged on the chains holding her wrists bound over her head. The metal was wrapped so tightly against her flesh that any sudden movement, conscious or otherwise, caused it to scrape painfully into her skin. Blood was already trickling down her forearms as a testimony to that fact.

Lucifer was smart, she had to give him that, he had her bound completely helpless. Not only were the cuffs restrictively tight, her wrists were locked just far enough apart that she could not wrap her fingers around the chain that held them fast to the wall above. She had no choice but to stand completely still in the middle of the room. The last three hours had left her shoulders burning, the ache traveling from her arms down her back.

This was not the worst pain she’d ever experienced, and pain was not going to break her. Granted she was already broken, but stubbornly obstinate at the same time. Like a dying animal who refuses to stop snapping at its killer. She was a Winchester, there was no way in hell she would ever admit defeat, even when defeat was painfully obvious. Her father may not have been able to teach her much in the few short years she knew him, but he taught her to turn pain to strength, and defeat into determination. She was a Winchester, the descendent of the legacies of the Men of Letters, and she was a Campbell, the descendent of a race of hunters. She was their heir. Their only remaining heir. Those two lineages had converged in her in such a way that she was born a psychic, she was better than an average hunter, better then the Men of Letters. She was greater than those who came before. She had to remember this. This would keep her alive.

The door creaked open with a terrible scrapping sound. Jamie swallowed with difficultly, glancing over her shoulder. Her blonde hair fell into her eyes and obscured her vision, but she caught sight of the white suit and dark hair. “Hello Lucifer.” She sneered.

“Feeling better, are we?” Lucifer asked, almost mocking in his tone.

“This was a great idea, I’ve seem to recovered my senses.” She spat as he walked closer. She flinched away as he ran his hand down her cheek. He laughed and she squeezed her eyes shut. That was Sam’s laugh, and he knew it. The feeling of her twin’s hand against her face made her feel so vulnerable, but only for a second. She would not allow him to break her with only a touch. Not this time. She was weak, she was not that weak. “Get the hell away from me!” She jerked her head to the side, sending a telekinetic blast in his direction. It was weak, but it was a blast of power none the less, and Lucifer was unprepared.

He stumbled back a few steps, needing a second to recover. It was enough for Jamie. She jumped up and kicked him with both feet, sending him sprawling backwards into the wall. In a different time, her telekinesis would be strong enough to keep her levitated, but her mind and body were not yet synced with her power, and her feet landed back on the ground with a pull that ripped at her shoulders. A cry of pain escaped her lips before she could hold it back. 

Lucifer got up laughing. He wiped his mouth with the back of her hand and brushed off the arm of his jacket. He turned to her with a cocky half grin, wagging a finger at her, as if to scold her.

 

"Oh Jamie." He appeared suddenly within her sight, his face just inches from hers. "That was a mistake, baby." He leaned in and captured her lips into a vice grip. She pulled back trying to get away, but he held her fast. Her jacket had been ripped off when she was chained, and Lucifer easily ripped the black tank top from her torso, leaving her exposed to the draft. She shivered, the cold sending ripples across her pale skin. Sam's tongue came out to lick his chapped lips as his green eyes focused on the blanched flesh in front of him.

 

"No!" She cried in protest as he wrapped his fingers around the solid black bra that concealed her dignity. But the word deafened in his ears. The material gave way with little protest and he dropped it roughly to the ground. Her breasts now exposed to him, he grabbed her forcefully by those mounds of flesh and ripped her forward. His head leaned into the warmth covering her heart and he sank his teeth into the soft mass. "Ahh!" He bit until lukewarm blood dribbled down his throat. Jamie gritted her teeth, forcing herself to bare the agony. She poured her hate for the man who had taken her brothers from her into herself. This time the blast of power that came from her was strong enough to send Satan against the wall, and hold him there. "Vos non tanget mihi iterum!" She sneered as tears streaked down her face. For a second, for a moment, she held him within her power. But it was fleeting, the door was shoved open and three demons advanced on her. Her power was broken before she realized it was gone, and she was unconscious before she could even register the blow to her head.

 

"Wakey, wakey, cupcake." She knew that voice. Oh she knew that voice. There was no way in hell she was going to open her eyes to that voice. But open her eyes she did. The twisted face of Alistair’s vessel came into view behind her hazy vision and she tensed every muscle in her being. The sensation alerted her mind to her current position. She raised her head and found herself completely naked, bound at the wrists and ankles, with only a thin leather strap covering her breasts and a marginally thicker one over her pelvis.

 

“Oh fuck my life.” She dropped her head back against the dentist chair in exhaustion. She glanced over at Alistair and sneered. “Lemme guess, Lucifer raised you from the dead for the sole purpose of torturing me. Good luck, Alistair. Or have you forgotten that I helped Sam kill you?” She should have kept her mouth shut. She really should have. The sound burst of courage that swelled within her was foreign, but as long as it was there she would use it.

 

Alistair merely laughed, unimpressed with her bravery. He had John Winchester on his rack for a hundred years, and Dean for thirty, he didn’t expect anything less from the daughter and sister of those men. “This is going to be a little different, I’m afraid. See, you’re not dead, and this is not your soul.” He ran a scalpel down the length of her thigh. She bite her lip as it slashed open her skin. “This is all real, doll. I’m going to tear you apart, bit by bit. And you won’t heal afterward.”

 

“You can’t break what’s already been broken.” She spat, even as he made another painful cut into her thigh. She was fully aware of her fate, but she would not let Lucifer take her body for his own. Not without a fight. He would have to break it in every way first. She may have failed at stopping him, but she would make damn sure that his offspring never saw the light of day. It would still her body, and she would protect it with every ounce of fight that still remained. “Dad,” She said quietly through gritted teeth. “Dad, help me.” She prayed. She thought of John and only John. Imagined him on the rack in hell. Forced herself to imagine his screams of pain. Forced herself to imagine that pain and blanket it with her own. She would fight this with her father’s spirit. Alistair had once told her and Dean that their father was made of the stuff of heroes. That he was strong in ways other men were not. If Alistair could not break John Winchester, she would make damn sure that he stood no chance with Jamie Winchester.

 

“Well you’ve successfully bled her.” Jamie opened her eyes with a wince. Her body burned with the loss of blood and the feeling of holy water and salt rubbed and packed into the wounds. She was dizzy and disoriented, and couldn’t fully get the haze from her vision. But she could hear Lucifer and make out Alistair wiping her blood from his hands. “Jamie?” Lucifer’s voice was sweet in her ear. She shuddered, her bible lessons of all things coming to mind. Satan is the greatest of all deceivers, the nuns had taught her. The one who could disguise himself as an angel of light and promise the world on a plate if only you’d serve him instead of God. If only the sisters had known how right they were. “I can make it all go away. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

 

“Go to hell.” Her voice caught mostly in her throat, which was swollen and so sore. “Vos rumpat corpus meum, vos non rumpat me.”

 

Lucifer growled in disgust and shook his head. “My lord?” Alistair asked, pitifully, weakly. Jamie almost grinned, but she didn’t have muscle capacity. A second later Alistair’s dying screams echoed through the room. Lucifer slammed the door shut with a heavy bang, and Jamie succumbed again to unconsciousness.

 

“Hello Jamie.” Two bright yellow eyes stared at her as her own shot open. She let out a yelp in spite of herself, struggling to get away at the sight of Azazel. She was not bound to the chair, but back to the wall, the cuffs in place around her wrists. Her body was littered with Alistair’s scars and she was still weak from the blood loss. She felt dried blood clinging across her eye and realized Alistair had opened the old scar she wore from the night with the demonic trucker that almost killed her family. Her hands were numb to the wrists and she swallowed painfully. “Fancy seeing you again.” She glanced down. At least she was no longer fully naked, although the black skirt she had been dressed in was slit to her waist, and the top wasn’t much more than a bra. Dean’s amulet thumped painfully against her chest.  

 

“Hello Azazel.” She said darkly, breathing heavily as she finally raised her head to look at him. “Lucifer thinks you can break me? Give it your best shot.” Her mother. If her father gave her the strength to endure Alistair, then her mother could protect her from Azazel. Even as the yellow eyed demon plied his tricks on her mind. Bringing her into the night her mother died. Forcing her to watch the flames consume Mary while she and her twin cried from their cribs. He played the scene for her and then played the night he possessed her father. Forced her to watch as he tortured her and her brothers. Watch as she and Sam shot their father with the Colt. Watch her past self covered in Dean’s blood. He played over John’s death at his hands. He played Sam’s death at Jake’s. She was forced to relive the night Dean went to hell. And AJ. He brought forth the memory of the death of the only man she had ever loved. She watched with sight-filled eyes as Lilith bled him to death in front of her blind counterpart. She watched the light go out of her fiance’s eyes and she wept. She wept for her parents, for her brothers, for herself. But when Lucifer entered she did not oblige. She felt the pain of each and every one of their deaths, but it would not be enough. If anything they made her stronger, more resistant to Lucifer’s bribes. “You’ll have to do better than that.” She rasped.

 

“Oh I have something that you will break you in every way possible, Jamie.” Sam’s voice shot back, after he reduced Azazel to dust. He released her weakened body from the bonds, and threw her unto the bed. “Every way possible.” He sneered. The door flew open, and she turned her head to see who the next demon would be.

 

She kind of expected Bobby. She was not prepared for the jeans and flannel clad figure that stepped into the room. Even though her blue eyes had dimmed from the abuse and pain, they still recognized the green irises that now stared maliciously down at her. “No.” She whispered, in fear and disbelief. “No. It’s not possible.” She could not move. She was bound to the bed and too weak to fight through the restraints that held her prone. “No. Please. No.” She let herself beg. She would beg for mercy he could not give. He had found the way to break her spirit.

 

Dean Winchester stepped into the weak light. He looked healthy and whole, and his dark, cold eyes focused on his sister. “Jamie.” He said to her, walking closer. She begged again, not wanting to believe that this possible.

 

“You’re not real. You can’t be real.” Pain and death she could endure. She had endured it all before. But her beloved brother, the one person she loved more deeply and more utterly than anything else, she could not. “Dean?” She finally asked.

 

“You should have been there with me.” He sneered as he approached the bed. “But you’re such a stupid, pathetic, weak little bitch that I knew you’d just be in the way.” A tear rolled down her cheek at the abuse. “You weren’t even strong enough to protect our son.”

 

“No! You can’t say that to me.”

 

A hand came down to strike her across the face. The blow reopened the cut slashed across her face. “Shut up! It’s true. I’ve always blamed you for killing our baby. And Sam. We lost Sam because of you. Because I was too concerned about protecting you, so I chased him off. I’ve done everything for you Jamie and you’ve always managed to fuck it up. Hell, I died trying to protect you from Lucifer. You didn’t deserve any of it.” He continued to hit her. She took his blows in utter silence. He was right. She didn’t deserve any of it. She had failed him. Failed him every single time. “Give in, Jamie. Give in to Lucifer. It’s all you can do now. You think dying is going to make up for everything you’ve done? Dying is just going to prove that you’re a coward. Afraid of who you are, of what you are.”

 

“Who you are…” A ghostly voice echoed in the deepest reaches of her mind. She instantly recognized it as Castiel’s. “Vox clamantis in deserto parate viam Domini rectas facite semitas eius.” He had spoken those words to her not long after they met. When the prophet within her had been awakened. “Quid est non alia.” Why is not important. Meaning why this had happened to her did not matter, although she would learn that it was because of Michael, because his vessel was her brother, and so she was bound to him as both prophetess and sister, to be his eyes through the world.

“Audivi et vidi.” She hissed, her eyes opened once again. “I have seen and I have heard.” She spat. She could move her hands, but through her eyes she could wield her power, and she struck the form of Dean with a blast of power so forceful he toppled off the bed and unto the floor. “Audivi et vidi!” She hissed again, fighting against the restraints. This was not going to be her end. Not while she could still fight.

 

The restraints snapped and Jamie leaped up from the bed. Dean’s eyes turned black and she cracked her neck. “I knew it.” She jumped up and kicked him in the face, sending him flying into the wall. Lucifer and his demons charged into the room, but Jamie was faster. She used to her power to levitate, giving her the advantage over the demons.

 

“Your powers are back.” Lucifer mused, watching her take out his demons. She snapped their necks, exorcising them from their host bodies. The grin on her brother’s face made her pause momentarily before rushing at him. “If you think you can.” He waved her on. He blocked her kick and sent her sprawling backward. She got back up and he threw her into the bed. She groaned in pain, rolling over to get back to her feet. This time when he raised his hand to throw her, she held up her own hand, deflecting his blast and sending it straight back at him.

 

Lucifer toppled hard into the wall and several more demons rushed into the room. She held out both hands, sending a telekinetic jolt that send several of them slamming into each other. But when she turned back to the wall where she sent Lucifer he appeared behind her and grabbed unto her. She struggled in his grip, trying to use her power to send him back, but he was quicker. He bound her wrists in an iron grip behind her and waved his hand over her eyes.

 

She had been blinded before. Lilith had done the same thing. Granted, her sight, her power, gave her the ability to use sight that was not her own to see. But there was no human to tap into. The world was dark. She struggled harder against Sam’s grip, trying to pull away. “Give me back my sight!” She demanded.

 

“You demanding me? Oh Prophetess.” Without her sight her telekinesis was all but useless, and she did not want to try to tap Sam’s telepathic link. She had built a wall that still stood against that link, to ensure that Lucifer did not read her mind. Lucifer tossed her back unto the bed roughly, and pinned her there. She heard footsteps approaching. Lucifer waved his hand over her face and she blinked her sight returning. She looked at Lucifer and swallowed thickly, in his hand was a large syringe full of red liquid.

 

“No.” She whispered, already guessing what it was. “No!” She said more forcefully, focusing on the syringe. Lucifer punched her across the face and snickered.

 

“Kiss your powers goodbye, prophetess.” She screamed as the needle pierced her neck and fire shot through her veins. “I love hearing you scream.” He breathed, throwing himself down on top of her. “Keep screaming.” His lips covered hers, muffling her screams. He clawed one hand down her stomach, sliding it under the waistband of her skirt. “I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” He snarled into her ear, penetrating her with his fingers. “I’m going to show you who the better brother is.” He kissed her roughly and yanked himself out of his pants. “And you’re going to conceive my heir.” 


	7. Desperation Stole Her Voice

He opened her wounds; the wounds suffered at the hands of Alistair, and created new ones. The dingy sheets beneath them were soaked with her blood. But he would not allow her to fade into blissful unconsciousness. Not yet. Not until he was finished with her. He writhed and groaned on top of her, and she stared up at him with blue eyes so eerily calm he swiped at her neck to checked her pulse and make sure she wasn’t already dead.

The demon blood he had drugged her with had not stopped burning in her veins. It was slowly making its way to her heart, and she felt it inch ever so painfully closer. She knew when it reached her heart it was over. Demon blood was the source of Sam’s power, but for his twin, protected from Azazel by Michael himself, and awaked as the prophet among prophets, it had the opposite effect. It would take her powers first, ripping them from her like grace ripped from an angel. And then it would consume her. If it didn’t kill her it would leave her so catatonic that she’d be a vegetable or worse. She knew Lucifer knew this, and this is exactly what he wanted. If she lived she’d be nothing but a vessel for his spawn. If she died, well, then at least the Winchester line would finally be extinct.

She was not going to let him have the satisfaction of breaking her. Her father taught her to fight to the last breath, and if this was her last breath, she was not going to take it screaming and writhing. She was going to look him in the eye and force him to see the light go out of her eyes. She knew he didn’t watch Dean die. He turned at the last second. He may have complete control of their brother, but he could not deny the pain Sam would feel at that one moment. She was going to make him feel that.

He was about finished, just purposely making it last longer. Not that she noticed really. The blood lost made her numb, the demon blood was a pyre in her veins, her senses were dulled to any other sensation. When he finally moved off her he stared her down, pleased with himself, and left the room without a word. Coward. He’d wait until he was sure she was either dead or the blood had finally done it’s work.

The cuts on her arms went so deep that she had no function in her fingers, but since they were demon torture inflicted she was going to bleed out much slower than normal. She swallowed, the sensation painful as she tried to raise herself up from the bed. It took her a full minute before she realized her body was dead weight. The devil had done his work well. All that was left was for her to die.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” She whispered, though the words held no audible sound. She had been badly injured before. There was a hunt with AJ, Aaron, and Dan that went horribly wrong. They were all so young, and it was their first hunt without Jefferson or Caleb or Joshua. Aaron wasn’t much older than Sam had been that first year when John had gone missing. AJ and Dan were barely twenty, and she was still eighteen. What they had thought was a rogue vampire had ended up being a nest of more than a dozen, and they had been lead straight into a trap. Long story short, she killed nine vampires that night, with a badly broken left shoulder that took months to heal and has never since had full of motion, and a hemorrhaging gash across her hip that left a nasty scar still visible if you knew where to look. That gash would get infected and nearly kill her within three days of that night. But that night, that night she earned the title vampire slayer. And there was the car accident with the truck that nearly killed her father, her brothers, and herself. Truth be told it had killed Dean, but her father intervened and exchanged Dean’s life for his. But she remembered waking up in the wreckage of the Impala, with Dean’s bleeding body against her. She couldn’t move and there was blood everywhere. In the end she hadn’t actually been that hurt, she broke her knee and she’s carried a scar across her face ever since. That scar was reopened by Lilith the night she murdered AJ. And now by Alistair it was fresh again.

The demon blood is close to her heart now. She feels it in her chest. For a moment she’s afraid, but it passes. Her parents and Dean will be there to greet her. That isn’t so bad. But then she remembers that Sam’s soul will be forever trapped by Lucifer. That he will never join them in paradise. And she knows Dean will suffer, even in Heaven, for that. A single tear slips down her cheek. “But Dean, what…I’m dying.” She breaths, closing her eyes. “What hope is there left? I’ll be dead in a couple minutes and then what?”

The answer hits her hard. A vision. The pain is gone, the feeling in her arms and legs returns. The flames die away. She looks around and sees that she’s at Mercyhurst. It’s night and she’s standing beside the dorm, watching as her fifteen year old self: blonde hair pinned back, ripped jeans muddy, leather jacket packed with a gun and salt rounds, creeps off into the night. “Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio; contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.” She closes her eyes at the prayer. She can’t help but pick it up, whispering it into the wind. “Imperat illi Deus; supplices deprecamur: tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute in infernum detrude. Amen.” The last word jolts her awake. As awake as she can be.

“Michael…”She whispers. “Michael, please hear me.” She mutters. She never stopped praying to him. She prayed in secret. Prayed for years. Part of her never really believed he was the dick Dean made him out to be. That Zachariah made him out to be. He was caught up in the war just as they were. He had siblings to protect and a world to save. Dean may have disagreed with his methods, but they had a similar desire, a similar purpose. She understood that now. She understood the connection she had always felt to Michael. Maybe it was just him manipulating her, so that she would trust him when he took Dean as his vessel, so that she would always be at side. But maybe it was because he was so much like her brother. “Michael, I am your prophetess. You’re the prince of hosts, general of the army of God. You sent legions of angels to rescue Dean. I know I’m not Dean. I know I’m not the proper vessel, but please. Dean’s blood, Mary’s blood, John’s blood, it all flows through me. You can use me. I was born to house angels, to house you above all others. I am the last legacy of that bloodline. Please…I offer you my body. I offer…I offer myself to you as your vessel. I’m saying yes. I’m pleading with you. Please, please take me as your vessel.” More tears come as the burn engulfs her heart. The burn forces her to scream, but she clings to her resolve and manages one discernible word.

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!” 


	8. Sacrificed Without a Fight

The room is different. It’s bathed in pale white light that resonates from every crevice like the flash of the twilight star. The wounds on her body knit themselves together, leaving soft unmarred flesh behind as they disappear as though they never were. Only the cut across her face does not disappear. Not completely. It heals over but the mark is a permanent stripe across her skin. As the marks disappear her strength returns. The bonds that held her snap like threads as she rises from the bed. Strangely enough there are clothes draped across the chair on the other side of the room as she crosses the floor she realizes they’re hers. Her favorite black cargo pants and a cropped black t-shirt. Quietly she dresses, thankful to be rid of the blood stained skirt. She buckles her utility belt and laces up her black boots. Across the chair hangs Dean’s leather jacket and she snatches it up quickly, beyond thankful to have it back.  

Her wounds healed, and her strength and dignity restored she finally looks towards the source of the light. The figure at the far corner of the room has no defined shape, but she notices the light resonates and disappears again from this form. “Hello Michael.” She says softly.

“Hello prophetess.” His voice doesn’t drip honey the way Lucifer’s does. It has a bite to it. It’s the voice of one who carries his power with dignity and grace. It reminds her that she is the presence of the Prince of Hosts and after a moment she drops to one knee and bows her head. “Come to me.” He commands. She nods, getting up and walking closer.

As she nears him the light grows brighter and encircles her. It converges and streams into her mouth and eyes. She can feel him as he enters her, his grace, the source of his power, overtakes her. It swaddles her like an infant and pierces her heart as sharp as blade. She can’t help but cry out, dropping to her knees. “What’s going on?” She asks. Her eyes flash bluer then the cloudless sky. Michael’s presence within her engulfs her senses. Her fingers clench as her muscles respond to the feeling of power and strength beyond her imagination. “Michael, what’s happening to me?” Her back aches with the feeling of a newfound weight that explodes from her shoulder blades and cascades out into the air. Wings. “I’m not fighting you, I swear.” She knows it isn’t supposed to be like this. She knows she would have awareness, she remembered that Cas would sometimes speak of Jimmy, whose body he possessed, but she should be nothing but a voice trapped in her own head. Instead she still felt in complete control, more than complete, as if Michael’s strength, his being, had melded with hers.

“It’s your powers. My grace has reawakened all your powers, and thus made it impossible for me to have control.”

“What does that mean?” She asked, horrified.

“It means, prophetess, that you’re going to have to fight me instead of Michael.” The light gone, Jamie whirled around to find Sam standing behind her, grinning cruelly.

“Lucifer.” Michael hissed, his voice a ghostly whisper in the air.

“Oh Michael, stuck are we?” Lucifer cackled, but Jamie didn’t cringe. The feeling of Michael’s grace within sent a feeling of calm over her. And with the calm came a confidence, an assurance that she had long since thought forsaken. Not since Dean was alive did she feel so serene.  

“It doesn’t matter. I am John Winchester’s daughter, the bloodline of Michael’s vessel is alive and well inside me. I was born to house angels, this angel. The powers of the Prince of Hosts, and the general of the armies of Heaven is in my hands. You will pay for your sins, Lucifer, your sins against the world, and your sins against my family!” Anger and rage weld up inside her and she felt the cool metal of an angel blade materialize in her hand. The sword of Michael. The blade that cast Lucifer into hell billions of years ago.

Lucifer chuckled, unimpressed. “You think one little sword is going to stop me, sister?”Hearing him address her as family was too much. She raced forward, stabbing at air with the blade. Lucifer jumped aside, laughing. “Perhaps we should do this somewhere more appropriate.” He snapped his fingers and they appeared in an old graveyard outside of Lawrence, Kansas, the place where she and her brothers had been born.

“Prophetess. You must be calculating and quick. Anger and rage will only hamper your strength.” Michael coached.

Lucifer struck out at her with a blade of his own. She deflected it quickly, the sound of steel grazing steel filled the air as he tried to bare down on her with his strength. She gritted her teeth as she resisted. Michael was the stronger one, as older brother and angel. But Jamie was the weaker of the twins, and Michael lacked full control over his vessel. It made them more evenly matched, if not giving Lucifer the advantage. Moreover, Sam’s powers used at full capacity could rival hers and she knew it.

She clenched her teeth, gritting back against the feeling of Lucifer’s guard overwhelming hers. In one short burst of strength she ripped her head to the side, using her eyes to telekinetically blast the fallen angel back. Lucifer flew backwards and crashed hard into an old headstone. Frustrated, he got up and decimated the rock into a million pieces. “On your guard!” Michael yelled in her head. She threw her hand out, throwing Lucifer back yet again. This time he disappeared and reappeared behind her. He used his own telekinetic powers to send her crashing into a tree. It splintered into pieces at the force. She cried out more in surprise then pain and hurried got to her feet.

There was power building inside her. She could feel it swelling in her veins. A new ability, one she had not had the chance to unlock in the past. She brought her hands up, flames appearing from her fingers and shot a fiery burst in Lucifer’s direction. To her shock the devil cried out in pain, and when the flames abated he appeared badly burned. “Holy fire!” He yelled. “But how? Michael, what is this?”

“Our father’s gift to his daughter.” Michael replied.

“He gives her holy fire?” Lucifer raged. “How can this be a fair fight when she can do such damage to me?”

“You destroyed my true vessel, brother. If I had it perhaps we would be a little more evenly matched.”

Jamie chuckled at Michael’s words, feeling a little more confident in herself. Lucifer spat unto the ground and disappeared again, but this time she could sense him. She whirled around and blocked the attack from his blade with her own, one handed this time. Her other hand she sent him sprawling back once again. “Michael!” Lucifer cried getting up again. “Michael, please. I’m your brother, and I love you. Stop this. Don’t do this to me.”

“I am not Michael.” Jamie hissed. “You destroyed my family!” She hauled the blade up and rushed for Lucifer with speed. He barely brought his guard up in time to deflect her attack. They exchanged sword blows until Lucifer sent her flying backwards. But this time she recovered, dropping to the ground on her hands and feet.

As she rose Lucifer looked at her with somber eyes. Sam’s eyes. “Jamie.” He said softly. “Hi Jamie.”

“It’s a trick.” Michael warned. “Don’t let him fool you.”

“I’ve missed you.” Sam’s voice rang in her ears. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save Dean. But please, I am now. I can save us both. You just have to trust me. Please. I’ve got him now, I can defeat him. Please, I just need the chance.”

Jamie’s chest heaved with quickening speed. He had found her true weakness at last. She would always be loyal to her family. Always. She had tried so hard in the dark days since Dean’s death to separate herself. To break out of Dean’s shadow, to accept that he was gone and she remained. To not see Sam in the form before her. To break the tie of sibling love with the one she shared a womb with. Dean was her older brother and she loved him as dearly as he loved Michael, but Sam was her twin and that connection ran deeper then blood. It was a bond she could not undo, though she tried time and again. The first drop of demon blood taken willingly had bit like a sword in her heart and when he had said yes she was broken from the inside out. And he had broken her ever since. Now he had her. The moment of hesitation gave him the window he needed. He readied his final attack, relishing at the feeling of her throat in his hands, waiting for her blood to paint his blade. 


	9. Suffer One Last Time

Her heart beat painfully against her chest as she felt the sting of the steel blade against her throat. “Fight back, prophetess.” Michael urged, but she could barely hear him. Lucifer’s grip was solid around her torso, the blade was too close, she could scarcely breathe for fear of it cutting into her flesh. Inside her Michael was fighting desperately to escape, but unlike a normal vessel he could not just vacate at will. He had them.

“Michael, this is where you die.” Lucifer hissed into her ear. “And I’ll finally be rid of this pathetic excuse for a bloodline. This last ruminate of a house long bereft of honor. Azazel should have murdered you in your crib that night. I told him to, I ordered it. I told him to feed the boy and kill the girl. And when he failed I plotted ways to kill you. I sent the wendigo to John Winchester. I told him to go after the daughter. I’m the reason your daddy abandoned you. I thought if I could separate you from him then I could make sure there would be no voice, no servant to Michael. I underestimated John’s intelligence, though. Mercyhurst, the refuge of that damned woman Catherine Martin.”

“Sister Catherine? What the hell does she have to do with anything?” Her mind is flooded with the memory of the nun who cared for her all those years. From the moment she gripped her hand in the driveway after John handed her over to that morning ten years later, when she handed her the hunter’s charm bracelet still clasped on her wrist and watched as she left the convent behind forever. This was the woman who taught Jamie everything that would make her such a dangerous and threatening hunter. It dawned on her in that moment that her father had always intended her to be a hunter, whether he wanted to admit it or not. That’s why he sent her to Mercyhurst, to Catherine. Catherine taught her Latin, taught her lore, gave her every book in the library on everything that ever crawled out of the mouth of hell. “Catherine was a hunter.” She whispered.

“She was more than a hunter, she was a prophet.” Michael whispered. The vision catches her offguard. She sees her father and Bobby in the study, papers thrown everywhere. She remembers this night, because she and Dean were hiding behind the stairs, listening to every word while Sam slept.

“You sure you want to do this, John?” Bobby had asked. “You’re giving up your daughter.”

“I don’t have a choice anymore.” Came her father’s reply. Dean had grabbed her and held her tight. “I won’t let her end up like Mary.”

“She won’t ever really be out. You know that.”

“I know. But I’d rather she be safe until she’s old enough to defend herself.”

“I have a place, then. Mercyhurst in Pennsylvania. There is a nun there, a hunter, by the name of Catherine Martin. She’s a wealth of knowledge and experience, seen her share of the life. She’ll understand. But you know Jamie will never forgive you for this. And neither will Sam and Dean.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. They’ll see her again, I know it, but for now she’ll be safe.”

Coming out of the vision is hard. She wants to cry, but she can’t. Lucifer’s angel blade is still at her neck. She wants her father. She wants Dean. Hell, she’d settle for Sister Catherine. “That damned bitch.” Lucifer sneered. “And she sent you right into Anthony Jefferson’s arms on your 18th birthday. I knew I had to bid my time. When Azazel failed to kill you, I sent the demon that possessed your friend Dan.”

“But you underestimated the extent of my powers.”

“I did, I’ve had a bad habit of that, haven’t I, prophetess? Lilith, though, she came damn close. She at least took from you your lover and your beloved brother.”

“But then Castiel showed up and foiled your attempt on my life yet again.”

“Chompers got your brother Adam though.”

“How dare you talk about Adam!”

Lucifer chuckled. “Oh it took years of fail attempts, of picking off each and every person close to you. But when I killed your son, you sealed your own fate. And now I have you.” He tightened the blade against her neck. “It’s almost a pity to kill you after all this time. But…I’ll get over it.” She closed her eyes, feeling the burn of the blade’s edge. She waited.

Suddenly the blade was gone and she felt herself forced from Lucifer’s grip. “You stay the hell away from my sister!” Her eyes flew open in shock at the sound of the voice she never dared believe she’d hear again. Dean, his spirit corporal stood protectively in front of her, blocking Lucifer. She scrambled quickly to her feet.

“Dean.” Lucifer chuckled in amusement. “How the hell? Michael, is this your doing?”

“No.” Michael answered, suddenly disembodied from Jamie. His form stood angled with Dean, both of them stepping aside to reveal Jamie, archangel sword in hand, eyes glowing with hatred. The power of the memories of everyone she loved radiated outward around her. Mary, John, Catherine, AJ and his family, Adam, Bobby, Castiel, and Sam. Dean and Michael both reached out to her. The presence of her beloved older brother, the man she loved more than her own life, awaked the long dead strength inside her. Michael, her silent protector, who watched over her every day of her life, nourished that strength, breaking it through the surface. She felt it swirl within her and around her and with a final breath she rushed Lucifer.

The world was black for a split second, and then she was on the ground, with Sam’s body in her arms. Michael’s sword was embedded in his stomach, the wound flashing golden. “Jamie?” The word barely past his lips before his head dropped to the side. His green eyes stared frozenly up at her. Jamie let out a sob, closing her brother’s eyes.

 “Goodbye, brother.” Michael whispered, though he kept his distance.

 “I’m so sorry Sam.” She whispered, hot tears cascading down her cheeks. “Please forgive me.”

Dean kneeled down beside them. He glanced at his sister and then looked down at their brother. With a sad smile, he touched Sam’s cheek. “It’s okay now, Sammy. Jamie saved us, both of us. We can be together now, forever.” A moment later his spirit appeared beside Dean. He blinked and looked at his siblings with slight surprise. Dean paused for a moment and then embraced his brother. Jamie wiped her eyes, though tears continued to come as she watched her brothers reconciled.

“I love you, Jamie.” Sam said softly, his ghostly hand brushing her cheek as she got up. “Thank you.”

“Don’t leave me.” She sobbed suddenly, grabbing for him and Dean. “Please. Let me come with you.”

“You have to stay here for now.” Sam told her, kissing her forehead and smoothing her hair back behind her ears. “You’re not finished yet, you still have a job to do here.”

“We’ll never leave you.” Dean whispered softly into her ear. “We’ll always be with you. Right here.” He laid his hand on her heart. “Forever.” He kissed her gently before stepping back beside Sam. “I love you.” He muttered.

“I love you both.” Jamie wiped her face with the back of her hand. She felt Michael’s form wrap protectively around her body. Her brothers disappeared she collapsed back onto the ground beside Sam’s body, sobbing heavily into his chest.


	10. I've Been Given So Much More in Life

The noonday breeze swept her hair off her neck as she scattered Dean and Sam’s ashes into the still and silent lake. “What happens now?” Michael’s presence manifests at her side.

“Life goes on. We’ve cured the populations of Lucifer’s virus. They’ll all live normal lives.” He answers in a ghostly whisper. “Thanks to you.”

She takes the compliment with a heavy heart as the last of the ashes sink into the water. “And what happens to me?”

“Considering the Apocalypse never happened? The gates of hell haven’t been closed. And there are still those who threaten evil on our father’s children.”

“The world still needs hunters.” She nodded to herself. “Well, I never was cut out for a peaceful life anyway.” Michael doesn’t respond and she stays quiet for a long moment.“Can I ask something of you, my lord?” Her voice trembles slightly. There are tears threatening to fall.

“Sam died as Lucifer’s vessel, you freed his soul but his body was entangled with the devil’s essence to the end. To resurrect Sam bares the threat of bringing Lucifer back.” He answered after a moment. “And as for Dean…Dean doesn’t want to come back, you know this. He has Sam now. He won’t risk losing him again.” Tears began to streak down her face at Michael’s words. “I am sorry, prophetess.” He muttered quietly. “But perhaps there is something I can give you to ease your emptiness.” Michael snaps his fingers and thunder rumbles. White light fills the air, conversing towards Jamie and settling at her stomach. When it clears, both her hands fly to her abdomen and she gasps as the feeling of life fills her being. Her blue eyes fly up to meet Michael’s form, but he has already disappeared.

 _Four years later_ …

At the bank of a small lake a dark clothed figure moves blonde hair away from her face. Jamie pulls her leather jacket tighter around her torso as she stares into the rippling water. A few feet away a child squeals, and she looks over. A young boy with dark hair is playing with a blonde puppy in the grass. He looks up and stares at Jamie with piercing green eyes. “Dean Samuel Winchester, come over here.” She coaxes softly. The little boy gets up and walks over to her, wrapping his arms around her leg. “Cassie, come here, girl.” She says to the puppy, pulling slightly on the bright red leash wrapped around her hand. She ruffles her son’s hair and bends down to pick him up.

“Mommy?” The boy asks. He looks at her and then at the water. He points to the water as he stares at his mother. She smiles and gently runs her fingers over the brass amulet around his neck. “Where’s Daddy?” He asks suddenly. He connects the amulet to his absent father. He knows it once belonged to him. For the entirety of his short life he has heard only stories and seen only pictures. Now he begins to wonder where the man his mother calls his father is, and why he’s never seen him in person.

Jamie stares at the water for a moment and then moves the amulet aside as she puts her finger against her son’s chest. “He’s in here.” She tells him. “Right here in your heart.” Her son looks down and then puts his pale hand against her chest, his emerald eyes holding a question. “Yes, he’s in mine too.” She confirms with a nod. “And he’ll always be with us, forever.” The boy wraps his arms around Jamie’s neck and she holds him close to her chest. She stares out into the water with murky blue eyes, watching as the image of Dean and Sam is reflected in the morning mist. Her heart aches for Dean’s strong arms and Sam’s broad chest. Though she would not trade for the feeling of her son’s small hands around her neck, and the puppy nuzzling at her leg, she still wishes for their physical presence. It takes a moment, but the familiar feeling of their spirits around her manifests itself again. She knows they’re both here beside her, guarding her son with quiet strength. Almost as quickly as it forms, the mists disperse and disappear. A single tear runs down her cheek as she turns and walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> This was partially inspired by the song "Through her Eyes" by Dream Theater.
> 
> This was written as a companion story to I am the Other, which is posted on FF.net. I think I explained Jamie's history well enough through the story that it can stand alone, but here's a list of 'important' details that should clear up confusion. 
> 
> -Jamie is Sam's twin sister, but her birthday is May 3rd 1983, hence the "born on the opposite sides of midnight" comment.  
> -Jamie looks "just like" Mary especially because she's blonde and has blue eyes.  
> -Jamie's anti-possession tattoo is on her right arm, above her elbow, rather then her chest.  
> -John abandoned Jamie when she was eight to protect her. He wasn't aware of her psychic powers, but he knew she was in danger.  
> -Jamie started hunting with Sam and Dean in Season 1, but she never really stuck around. She had her own 'crew' of hunters that consisted of John friend Jefferson's two sons Aaron and Andrew (AJ), and their friend Dan.  
> \- Jace is the nickname given to her by AJ, Aaron, and Dan. She uses the name Jace Winchester prior to Season 4, only her family and Bobby refer to her as Jamie. Even after season 4 outside hunters refer to her as Jace unless she tells them otherwise.  
> -AJ is Jamie's boyfriend during season 1 and her fiance throughout the timeline of season 2 and 3. He's murdered by Lilith a few days before Dean goes to hell.  
> -Yellow Eyes calls Jamie "The One Who Got Away" implying that she is not one of his children. She discovers later she was saved by Michael that night, and many other nights since, including during the car accident in Season 1, and from Lilith in the incident when AJ is killed.  
> -Prior to Dean going to hell Jamie displays precognition, premonitions, and telekinesis. She has more control over these powers then Sam does. She also gets headaches whenever evil is near. She and Sam also share a telepathic link, but it's weak and doesn't always function.  
> -Jamie wore Dean's leather jacket and other various articles of his clothing while he was in hell, but she is particularly attached to the jacket.  
> -When Dean comes back from Hell, Jamie's prophet powers are awakened. This affects her precognition the most, she often knows what will happen just before it happens. She stops getting headaches, instead she's able to sense the presence of supernatural beings.  
> -When Lucifer is raised Jamie is pronounced "The Voice of One Crying Out in the Desert" meaning that she is not just any prophet, but rather the one sent to narrate the Apocalypse, and prepare for Michael's coming. Thus why she refers to herself early on as bound to serve Michael.


End file.
